Harrietta Potter and the Gender Swapping Spell
by Britta
Summary: What happens when Hogwarts is hit with a gender-reversing potion? Join Harrieta Potter, Rhonda Weasley, and Herman Granger as they struggle to this and more! (example: What is a tampon used for? Is a bra supposed to feel like this? Why’s there a flap in
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I'm sure you've heard it all before, and would have to be delusional if you did not realize the Harry Potter characters belong to the goddess of brilliancy, J.K. Rowling. She is my idol! Without her, this story would not have characters, setting, and several objects. I don't earn anything from writing this, besides kind reviews, perhaps some fans, and the satisfaction of expressing my emotions and ideas, so I do not benefit financially. I am not affiliated with J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers, or any publishing company that distributes Harry Potter books.   
  
A/N: This odd little tale was inspired by a video my friends and I attempted to make. We wanted to act out Harry Potter, but for some odd reason, we decided to reverse the gender of all characters. It was, shall we say, interesting. I still have blue eyeliner on my forehead from where we drew the scar. Anyways, thanks to my honeymooning bio teacher, for leaving us a movie with no worksheet while you were away. Instead of watching, I edited a lot of my chapter in class. Also, muchos love to my four greatest buddies, Noel, Ash, Katie, and Kat. Without you guys, this would not have been conceived!  
  
***  
  
Harrietta Potter and the Gender Swapping Spell  
  
Chapter One: Boys Will Be Girls.. And Vice Versa  
  
Harry Potter awoke on a most peculiar day to a most ordinary sound: the melodic snoring of his best friend, Ronald Weasley, filled his ears instantly. The song of Ron's sleep always brought an inherent comfort to Harry, for reasons unbeknownst to him. Perhaps it reassured him of his friend's existence, establishing that his life was not a dream. Harry still lived in fear of discovering his status as a wizard to be false, even after living in the world for 5 years.  
  
Five years, to a fifteen year old, is an eon. It was, to be sure, a third of his life so far. Yet, the mind is a tricky organ, and to Harry it seemed only yesterday that he had awoken on Halloween morning those five years ago, when he had been a scrawny first year boy. But things had changed, many things; for even as a wizard, puberty was an important component in a boy's journey to manhood. Harry and his fellow peers had grown taller and hairier, and their voices had descended many octaves. Occasionally, Neville's range would squeak, but it was almost expected from him.  
  
Halloween, in the past, had proven to be a hectic time for Harry. Most often, things at Hogwarts accumulated and then unfolded on Halloween night. It was an eve most infamous for events to go awry. With this in mind, Harry hastily slid out of bed and began changing.   
  
Now, for all you male readers out there, I will spare you a blow-by-blow account of Harry's changing. However, it must be known that his aging had also affected his torso, and one might venture to say he had rock hard abs worthy of adoration that would be perfect to melt butter on. Keep that in mind.  
  
All the while being serenaded by Ron's symphonic snoring, Harry perused the Voldemort situation. After his nemesis's resurrection, little had been heard of dark activity, and many had qualms regarding the truth to Harry's account. Of course, Dumbledore had his "peeps" allotted to counteract any of Voldie's moves, but this was hard to do because Voldemort had not resurfaced at all. Harry found it frankly suspicious, and aimed to keep an eye out- a typical Harry move.  
  
Yes, it was true that Harry did get tired of being treated the savior everyone depicted him to be. He wanted to screw up, just once, to show them he wasn't perfect. But that was the thing. He was not allowed to mess up. If he did, he would face not only ridicule and hostility, but also disappointment. That was an adversary Harry could not face; seeing distress caused by his own actions was beyond his point of handling.   
  
He sighed, an action he often executed, and hoped that for once in his life, this day would go smoothly. It was an irrational hope, an impossible hope, and he knew it. As long as Harry Potter would live, his Halloween's would be most peculiar. Some would be deadly. Some would be marked with horrible sadness. Some would remind Harry of drunken nights involving a girl named Mary Sue. But this particular Halloween would remind Harry of a sensation he would never again wish to feel.   
  
***  
  
Breakfast was particularly uneventful (well, it was humdrum by Harry's standards- if you were  
interested in Hermione quoting immense paragraphs from her latest literary conquest, while Neville frenziedly searched for his toad, then you might have been interested, but Harry was so used to both things happening that he found them rather boring.)   
  
The trio of friends split, and Ron watched as their bushy-haired female friend headed towards Arithmancy. The boys were off to Divination, a class they loved to hate. They headed to the room and stepped up the ladder leading into it.  
  
Trelawney's lair was the same as the said Divination Professor- smelly and full of hot air. Although Halloween is typically thought to be a cold holiday, Harry thought it really wasn't necessary for the room to be as sweltering as it was. And even worse, Trelawney had thought it appropriate to have them try out "Spoon reading". Actually, she had "seen it in the stars" that they would need the predictions spoons would bring about. Ron had positively chortled when she had announced this. "Doesn't she mean she saw it in the spoons?" he had sniggered, poking Harry in the side. Harry was usually mild-mannered, but in the case of Divination, he usually joined in on Ron's gibes. "I think the knives and forks are feeling neglected," he whispered, grinning.  
  
"I feel an air of disbelief in this room!" Trelawney dramatically spoke. "It radiates into my very soul, telling my eye that there are some who do not believe the spoons."  
  
"Yeah, and your bat-like ears can detect every sound," Ron whispered from the side of his mouth.   
  
Seamus and Dean, at a neighboring table, heard this and laughed appreciatively, but were reprimanded by glances from the ever-faithful Parvati and Lavender. Dean's already dark skin reddened at Parvati's glance, and Seamus looked down guiltily. It seemed that an ocean of hormones had hit Gryffindor tower lately, and all these crushes were sprouting up everywhere. However, the girls were done chastising, so their temporarily icy glares returned to their beloved Professor.   
  
Trelawney had begun passing out the spoons, one to each student, and when Ron received his, he promptly began hanging his onto his nose. "How's this, Harry?" he asked, grinning across the table and crossing his eyes. For once, the Professor lost her misty pretense and shrieked, "Keep it up, weasel, and I'll have you standing in the corner and doing that all hour!" In fury, as she handed Harry his spoon, it got caught in one of her gaudy earrings, and Harry found it hard to keep a straight face. The now-stony faced Seer stormed away as Ron burst into gales of laughter. Parvati and Lavender seemed initially shocked at seeing their cherished mentor turn into a banshee, but their surprise had dwindled, and was replaced with contempt towards Harry and Ron.  
  
"Ahem," Trelawney began from the front of the stifling room. She resumed her misty voice before giving an ominous look towards Harry's table. "Students, spoon reading is a very convoluted art. I do not expect all of you to be as talented as I. There are, however, some guidelines that may aid you in your attempts. Let us all take the spoons and place them in the palms of our hands. Grasp them firmly. And keep your eyes closed- we need concentration!"  
  
Harry did just this, and felt the spoon, already quite hot due to the room's temperature. He grimaced as the warmth threatened to heat enough for burning.  
  
"Do not taunt the spoons. Remember to believe in them. A taunted spoon is a tortured spoon. A taunted spoon will not allow us insight into our futures."  
  
"Well, what about a taunted knife? I'd like to use one on her," Ron muttered under his breath. Harry labored not to laugh.   
  
"Feel the spoon against your skin. Become one with the spoon! You are the spoon! You are the spoon!"  
  
Harry opened his eyes briefly. Ron was biting his lip to prevent his guffawing, Seamus was rolling his brown eyes, and Dean was looking at Trelawney as if she was a giant bubble blowing turtle. On the other hand, Lavender and Parvati were calmly holding their spoons and had their eyes obediently shut. Neville was grasping his spoon tightly, and a pained look was continuously spasming across his chubby face. Trelawney looked his direction, so Harry snapped his emerald eyes shut.  
  
"Take the spoon and put it next to your ear. Hear what the spoon has to say to you! Listen to the spoon! Open your ears and hear its golden words!"  
  
Ron kicked Harry under the table, causing his eyes to flutter open. He had thrown his spoon down in disgust, and remarked to Harry, "Wouldn't the words be silver, because that's what color the spoons are?"  
  
Once again, the laughter of the two boys resulted in an outraged Trelawney. She stormed over to their table, and looked pointedly at Ron. "I recall telling the class to hold the spoons next to their ears, Mr. Weasley!"   
  
"Did you?" Ron asked, innocently. "Well, might I ask you to take this spoon and stick it up your-"  
  
"But, Professor," an astonished sounding Parvati said. Harry took his eyes off of the red-faced Trelawney and focused instead on where Parvati's glance was. She was looking at Neville, and a grand sight awaited them all there.  
  
Neville's spoon was floating in front of his face, and he was looking at it with glazed eyes. His back was stiff as he sat on the edge of his chair. Harry was about to go over to where he sat, but a sudden spasm of Neville's body prevented this move. His mouth opened, and a monotonous voice boomed from it.  
  
"For a great while, a danger has waited in shadow, watching for an opportunity to strike. It will happen on this eve. All will be affected, all will be changed. None will remain the same. A triangle is the only resolution. The triangle must find the way. The key lies in their findings. "  
  
With the last word, his body went rigid, as if he had been hit by a full-body bind. Neville's head rolled on his shoulders, and he collapsed.  
  
***  
  
"Spoon reading?" had been Hermione's first skeptic response as Harry and Ron had begun telling her the details of their past class. Her dislike for Professor Trelawney had allowed a few laughs at Harry and Ron's jokes, but she sobered up when the boys recalled Neville's prediction.  
  
They had taken to calling it that; after all, what else could it have been? After the shock had subsided, the class had burst into discussion of his odd behavior. Trelawney had put a dramatic hand to her forehead, exclaiming something incoherent, babbling that the fates had told her that the spoon would speak through Neville. She asked Dean and Seamus to take their passed-out classmate to the Hospital Wing to be revived before leaving Lavender and Parvati in charge and sweeping up to her room to "Meet with her crystal ball". Lucky for Harry and Ron, class had been dismissed shortly afterwards, and they had to face the wrath of Lav and Parvati for only a few tense minutes.  
  
So it was that they had hurried to lunch and told Hermione. "That really is frightening," Hermione said, a worried hand to her mouth. "We'd better watch out tonight."  
  
Ron hurriedly slurped a bit of spaghetti and said, "If you ask me, it's a load of dung-"  
  
"What, Weasley, your excuse for a home or your tattered robes?" The unpleasant, drawling voice of Draco Malfoy seemed highly amused. "'Or, perhaps, were you referring to Longbottom's brain?"  
  
Ron turned red instantly and stood up, barely towering over the blond boy. "One word, Malfoy, and you'll have a load of dung atop that little blonde head of yours."  
  
Draco looked only slightly abashed, and took a worried hand and patted his head before quickly responding, "Was that a threat, Weasley?" in a bemused tone.  
  
"Go away, Draco," Hermione prompted, her nose under a book about spoon reading that she happened to have in her book bag.  
  
"Ah, how sweet!" Malfoy cooed. "Little Weasels mudblood girlfriend is sticking up for him! Why, don't worry, Granger, we'll leave a bit of him for you to have your fun with."  
  
"Never insult a lady," Ron warned.  
  
"Lady? What lady? All I see is an overprized, underbred Mudblood."  
  
Harry was outraged at Malfoy's biased jab, and he stood up and locked glares with him. Emerald looked onto silver with equal scorn glittering in both eyes. "Malfoy, can't you ever find another way to attack her? The whole "Mudblood" insult is getting old. Why don't you whip out a little 'If brains were broomsticks, yours would be slower than Weasley's?' Oh, wait, I know why. Hermione's the cleverest witch of our class, and you know she far outshines you, so you can't use that against her without insulting yourself!"  
  
Malfoy's eyes shined brighter and he gritted his teeth. After what seemed like ages, he opened his mouth and spoke in a low tone. "Potter, if I wanted your perfect opinion, I would have asked for it. It's too bad your grew up without parents- if they had been alive, maybe they could have taught you how to have a civilized conversation-"  
  
Draco had no time to finish his thought, because in this instant Ron had punched him in the stomach and Harry began to do the same to his face. Sadly, Crabbe and Goyle were with Malfoy, as always, so Ron and Harry faced them as well. Hermione raced over and stood watching, wringing her hands in worry and fretting incoherently.   
  
Ron was just avoiding a blow to his collarbone, and Harry was throwing a punch at Malfoy when an oily voice surprised them all. Harry's punch failed to falter, however, and landed right on Professor Snape's outstretched hand.   
  
"Potter..." he growled menacingly. "You all follow me. NOW!" Giving a new meaning to his name, Severus Snape brushed by, beckoning them all. They could do nothing but go, so with heavy hearts, they followed suit.  
  
***  
  
As the trio departed from Snape's office towards McGonagall's room for Transfigurations, Harry mused the unfair penalties they had all received.   
  
"Really, Harry, you ought not let it get to you," the calm, sensible voice of Hermione said, soothing Harry with her words. "You know Malfoy's just trying to rile you up. And when you react like that, it's impossible for Snape not to punish you."  
  
Ron nodded heartily and grimaced as he touched a cut on his knee. "You know he's always out to get you some way, Harry."  
  
Harry groaned, gingerly touching the fresh black eye Malfoy had delivered him. "And to think, now we have to serve detention with that git." He looked mournful. "Imagine, a whole night of Malfoy taunting us and Snape egging him on, then waiting to chastise us if we retaliate."  
  
Hermione gave another of her sympathetic looks, while Ron engaged Harry in an avid Malfoy-bashing, occasionally switching his random insults to their sallow-skinned Potions Professor. Hermione looked on with half-interest and half-disdain for their disregard of respect towards their classmate and their teacher. However, she did manage to calm Ron's gusto when he began firing off obscenities, which she would not tolerate.   
  
"You should be thankful we're not all expelled! After all, that's the punishment for fighting," she reminded them.   
  
Ron, rubbing a sore elbow, snorted. "Yeah, and not having our wounds nursed was a nice little gift. 'Let them remind you of the scars violence leaves'- psssh. They'll just remind me of how batty Dumbledore can be."  
  
Harry sighed. "I never thought I'd say this, but I am very glad McGonagall was the one to punish us. Imagine if Snape had! We'd be in detention until we were forty." He laughed a little, imagining Hermione in a rocking chair, gently rubbing a broom against the floor and quoting her books, while Ron complained loudly and Harry kept rubbing a spot on a trophy over and over because he had fallen asleep.  
  
"I have to agree with that," Hermione said, shutting her book with a thump. "Well, this spoon book has helped me to understand the reading process a bit better," she added. "It turns out spoon reading is a very serious art."  
  
"Yeah, to a loon, it is," Ron muttered.   
  
Hermione chose to ignore that. "We've really got to find out what Neville was predicting!"  
  
As they entered the room, McGonagall audibly tutted in disapproval. Apparently, she was still ashamed of the quarrel her house members had participated in. Her tight-lipped smile was disturbed when the bell sounded and the Gryffindors all took their respective seats. Neville had returned, looking paler than usual, and he was shaking a bit, but other than that he was about normal.   
  
McGonagall began pacing the room as she spoke, eyeing each student as she passed. "Today we will be starting a pivotal skill involved in advanced Transfiguration. We will be changing animals into other forms of their species."  
  
"Oooh," Hermione squealed. "I read about that and I've been dying to try it ever since!"  
  
McGonagall smiled at the clever witch and said stiffly, "Well, Miss Granger, I expect you'll be quite skilled at it, then. Now," she said, turning away from Hermione, "take these quills I give you and transfigure them into albino rabbits, please."  
  
She passed out the white feathers, giving Neville an understanding look, while Harry and Ron received a more severe one.   
  
As soon as they all had their quills, they obeyed her requests and changed them into white rabbits with little problem. Neville's ended up having a feather for a tale, but other than that, they looked right as rain.  
  
"Next," McGonagall continued, "we will change these white rabbits into chinchillas."  
Hermione, naturally, was the first to succeed, with Harry and Ron following shortly after. "Lovely," McGonagall cooed, examining their finished products. "Miss Granger, what is that you're feeding your specimen?"  
  
Hermione looked up, smiling, and responded, "Oh, Professor, I transfigured an extra quill into a carrot. Mine looked a bit hungry." McGonagall smiled back and her, muttering "Quite clever.." and Hermione blushed.  
  
"Suck up," Ron garbled bitterly. As McGonagall scrutinized his, however, she found a slight problem. "Mister Weasley," she remarked, arching an eyebrow and holding up the bunny so as to see its wagging tale, "I believe I said chinchilla, not Chihuahua." Ron's ears went crimson, and he looked put out after that.  
  
"Now, students, I'll ask you to please retrieve your texts from your satchels and prepare for some good old fashioned note-taking." A huge groan swept over the class like a collective sigh. Usually, lecturing and notes were done in History of Magic, so this was indeed an interesting development. Hermione seemed the only one awaiting the experience eagerly. She fervently pulled out a roll of parchment and re-inked her quill as her hand shook with excitement. Her keen eyes never left the Professor's face.   
  
"Animal Transfiguration was always thought of as a dark art until the late 1500's, when the sorcerer by the name of Gideon Grumples accidentally turned a snowy owl into a black one and did not subsequently burst into flames. Ever since then, it has been attempted on many species, and it was found that only the ones with a specific gene of adaptation were able to undergo this change..."  
  
Harry soon found his focus slipping, and he could tell Ron was having the same problem. He normally found Transfiguration to be exhilarating, but this class was a definite exception. He found his eyes drooping slowly...  
  
By the time that McGonagall announced notes would soon be over, Harry had fallen asleep momentarily a total of two times, and had to jerk his head up only to find a bit of drool had smeared his writing. The Professor had just told them to put away their scrolls, and everyone had sighed in relief, but Hermione still had a question, and Harry's heart sank as fast as her hand shot into the air.   
  
"Professor, can a human use Transfiguration to change themselves into another human? Or another form of a human?"  
  
"Well, Miss Granger, that is a good question. As of yet, we haven't discovered how, because humans are complex organisms and it may require more steps than it seems. Human transformation can occur by potions, but I daresay you've never heard of them- Polyjuice, namely-" Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a guilty glance; "and there are other forms of potions to change the human body's organs and such, but most are illegal or utilized for illegal use. In some cases, an antidote has yet to be made to reverse the potion, so they are not in wide-spread use. There are spells, of course, but these enchantments should not be taken lightly. Such spells and charms have grown old, for their counter-curses have not yet to be discovered, just as the potions have no antidotes."  
  
Hermione seemed satisfied with this answer, and she jotted down every word with precision and speed. Harry caught a glance of her notes; they looked as if they'd been typed, and no abbreviations were used. It was no surprise that Hermione was the top of the class, he mused, thinking of his spit-splashed parchment. No surprise at all.  
  
***  
  
Following Transfiguration was the annual Hogwarts Halloween Feast, a meal Harry enjoyed not only for its food, but also for its merriment. All the students and faculty had a renewed sense to them at this feast, and it was impossible for even Snape or Filch to dampen the mood. Although Harry's wounds from the earlier brawl still echoed with ache, he found that they were easy to dismiss with wafting smells of his preferred foods.  
  
The Great Hall was once again decked out for the feast: grinning jack-o-lanterns winked at Harry and cobwebs in the corners seemed to house decoration spiders, which Ron shied away from.  
  
The feast had its regular air of excitement- students talked animatedly in audible whispers while others (namely, Fred and George Weasley) laughed uproariously at some new prank. As Harry took his usual seat at Gryffindor table, Albus Dumbeldore stood up, his eyes twinkling in familiar happiness as he motioned for quiet. The roar dwindled to a murmur, and in time even the Weasley twins quieted. The headmaster smiled at his students once again, and he began the ominous speech he had to reluctantly give.   
  
"Students, welcome again to our Halloween feast here at Hogwarts. As you all known, undoubtedly, Halloween is a somewhat sacred day in our world, and our celebration should never cease in its joyousness. However, let me remind you that bliss is always linked to ignorance. I ask that on this night, you do not let your pleasure blind you."  
  
Harry looked back at Dumbledore, his smile quickly fading. What could this mean? Did it have anything to do with Neville's odd spell that afternoon?  
  
Dumbledore, apparently, was not done. "I know we have lived the past several months unblemished- and I do not wish to mention a subject that could falter our high spirits, but reality is not a thing to hide. It is my duty to remind you that Voldemort, even in the state of calm he has thus forth exhibited towards us, is not a force to be reckoned with. He is as dangerous now, even in hiding, as he was at his greatest height of power."   
  
Harry gulped, looking worriedly around. Some, like the twins, seemed to take the news as a joke. Others, namely Draco Malfoy and his Slytherins, actually looked pleased at the warning. However, Ron and Hermione both wore the apprehensive expression Harry did. Tacitly he knew they too had made a connection between the events of the afternoon and the lecture Dumbledore had given.  
  
Dumbledore sat, and slowly the mood relaxed back into its normal atmosphere. The murmur kicked it up some notches, and even the trio found themselves unwinding slightly, while they kept open eyes. The food popped up from the kitchens below, sending a wave of hunger over the boys as they thrust a bit of everything down their throats, washing it down with goblets of pumpkin juice that, as Harry noted, tasted a bit atypical. "Honestly," Hermione clucked, slicing her pumpkin pasty daintily as Ron shoved his in his mouth, licking the remaining bits from his fingers. "I do not understand how boys can manage to be so barbaric."  
  
Ron smiled, revealing his half-chewed pasty, and said "I don't understand why girls feel they have to slice everything, even when it's meant to be a finger food!"  
  
Hermione rolled her brown eyes, replying with a sarcastic, "Well, I suppose you won't need utensils, since it seems every food is a finger food to you," as she grabbed his fork, spoon, and knife.  
  
Ron screwed up his face in a look of disdain as he lifted up his bowl of steaming soup to drink from the bowl, indubitably wishing for once to prove Hermione wrong. However, he was concentrating too much on looking at her sneeringly across the table, and the sweltering contents of the bowl poured not into his lips, but onto his pants.  
  
"Bloody Hell!" Ron cursed, making Hermione burst into gales of laughter. Harry's amusement only increased as Hermione's knife slipped on the pasty, causing a load of its pumpkin filling to skirt onto her immaculate robe. Her laugher also ceased.  
  
"Oh, shut it, Harry!" the two chorused, looking at their dark-haired friend as his laughter continued. At the same time, they grabbed the nearest food and flung at him, Hermione aiming for the head and Ron for his stomach. Treacle pudding splattered on his glasses, and dressing stained his front, but as it hit, his laugh remained unbroken. Soon, his two friends joined in, reveling in the pure hilarity of it all. After all, the harm was nothing that a little cleaning charm could not tackle.   
  
And after this moment, the three Gryffindors forgot the portentous words Dumbledore had spoken, for they began to truly enjoy themselves, a pastime they had been robbed of so many times. They opened the complementary Wizarding crackers that came at their place mats, laughing at the Moving Mustache Hermione received and looking in awe at Harry's traveling gobstone set. Even Ron had to laugh when Fred and George threw a fake spider at him. He was mad, of course, but his maniacal laughter echoed around the stone hall as he chased his twin brothers around, vowing to strangle them when they were caught.  
  
***  
  
Subsequent to the feast, Harry found himself in Gryffindor tower instantaneously, or so it seemed to him. He and his friends had enjoyed the feast until its closure, 8 o clock, and he was feeling rather drowsy. It was a bit odd, seeing as he usually stayed up until midnight on school nights. However, his mind did not make this realization.   
  
As Harry was about halfway up the boy's stairs pain hit him in two places: his scar, of course, and his stomach. Clutching both places in pain, he stumbled into the boy's dorm before collapsing on his bed. Loud groaning noises emitted in the next moments caused him to raise his head shakily.  
  
In entered Ron, who also staggered to his bed clasping his midsection. Next to arrive were Seamus and Dean, lurching and grunting with every step. Neville was not far behind, bringing his own noises of discontentment.   
  
"Ehhhhh", Harry moaned, meaning 'What in the world is happening to us, mates?'  
  
"Blehhhhaaa!" Ron responded, saying, 'I haven't got the slightest clue. Why don't we hire a detective?' with a hint of sarcasm.  
  
"Gahhhh," Harry retorted, which meant, 'Why do that when we have Hermione, the Witch-Who-Knows-It-All?'  
  
"Plhaaageee fuuuuhh nooogg..." Ron blurted, finishing off their semi-conversation by stating, 'Aye, Harry, my stomach hurts like a Bludger hit it, so let's just go to sleep, alright?'  
  
"Yuuuggg.." Harry replied in assent. Both boys turned over in bed, closing their curtains half-heartedly. Between the pain in his scar and the bitter burning in his abdomen, he was almost numb from the soreness. However, he was feeling utterly somnolent, and surprisingly enough, he fell asleep almost instantly, his pain eventually fading into the night as his dreams transcended consciousness.   
  
***  
  
Harry woke with all remnants of the prior night's stomach ache missing. He felt quite revitalized, in fact. He had a sudden urge to shower, so he got up and shuffled along. The room was very quiet, and he knew instantly what was missing: Ron's usual snores were not echoing through the air. With a confused look, he trudged over to Ron's bed and yanked open their curtains.  
  
Harry gasped, seeing the long red hair and girl's figure that rested there; there was no question that it was Ginny Weasley. "Bloody broomsticks!" he thought quickly to himself. "I must have walked into the 4th year girl's dorms!" He turned to exit without being noticed but a movement on the other side of the room caught his eye.   
  
It was another girl, awake. Harry blinked and rubbed his eyes. He had never seen her before. She had shoulder-length, black hair, which hung in messy chunks. Her eyes were a vivid jade behind her black-framed glasses, and her skin was a pale, slightly creamy white.   
  
Harry's first thoughts were, "She could be fancy-able if she did something with that hair. A smoothing spell would do the charm. And she could use a bit of tanning lotion. Bronzer, perhaps? Some contact lens charms could also eliminate those out-of-style specks."  
  
Harry's second thought was, "Hey, why isn't she moving anymore? How come she moves her arm when I move mine?"  
  
Harry's fourth thought was, "Holy hippogriffs. I can be so daft sometimes."  
  
And with this in his head, he screamed bloody murder as he looked into a mirror. His female reflection screeched back at him in a high-pitched voice that could only belong to a girl.  
  
***  
  
A/N: You like? Review and tell me what you think. Also check out "How We Inadvertently Managed to Save the World" on my fictionpress.net name, Britta, of course! :-) 


	2. Man, I Feel Like a Woman

A/N: Ah, so I return! Sorry for such a wait. I am wondering if I should use the pronouns 'he' or 'she to describe Harrietta/Rhonda/Herman.. for now I'm calling them by their switched-sex names and leaving the pronouns as they would be for their normal form- so Rhonda/his, Harrietta/his, Herman/her, Gimmy/her, etc.  
  
Technical definition for wenis: according to my friend's darling little sister, wenis is the skin on your elbow. So don't ask.  
  
Chapter Two: Man, I Feel Like a Woman  
  
"The best thing about being a woman  
  
Is the prerogative to have a little fun and...   
  
Oh, oh, oh, go totally crazy-forget I'm a lady  
  
Men's shirts-short skirts  
  
Oh, oh, oh, really go wild-yeah, doin' it in style  
  
Oh, oh, oh, get in the action-feel the attraction  
  
Color my hair-do what I dare  
  
Oh, oh, oh, I wanna be free-yeah, to feel the way I feel  
  
Man! I feel like a woman!..."   
  
Shania Twain "Man! I Feel like a woman!" Album: Come On Over  
  
Harrietta's scream was stifled by a dainty hand thrust over his mouth. The voice that went with the hand was unmistakably Ron's, but it was not deep and rumbling, as usual. No, this voice was softer, more reserved and doubtful than usual. It was Rhonda's.  
  
As Harrietta turned to face his best friend, he realized the "girl" he's assumed was Ginny was actually Ron, seeing the long nose was still present in his feminine form.   
  
"What are you doing in here?! You're a girl!" Rhonda shrieked, seemingly not noticing the obvious femininity in his own voice.   
  
"No! I'm not! I'm Harry!"  
  
"Har, Har har!" Rhonda laughed falsely, slapping his knee in sarcasm. "You don't fool me."  
  
"Oy, then, you great prat, look in the mirror!"  
  
Rhonda turned and gasped. "There's more girls in here!"  
  
Harrietta rolled his eyes and tapped the mirror saying, "No, you idiot. It's a mirror, see?"   
  
"I'm a girl!"  
  
"Yes!"  
  
"Harry, are you sure we're not dreaming? Or is this the mirror of Erised or something?"  
  
"Ron, why in Merlin's name would I want us to be changed into girls?"  
  
"I dunno.. odd fetishes, I suppose?"  
  
Harrietta glared. "Rhonda, you know I have a pudding fetish.. I mean.. Rhonda, we should get going! We have to talk to Hermione before anyone sees us!"  
  
And so the two boys (at heart) left their dorm in a clandestine manner, swiftly and softly, so no prying eyes could spot them in their moments of woe.  
  
***  
  
A few moments of frantic pounding on Hermione's door was enough to wake her. The two boys could hear her groggy footsteps crossing the floor, and the instant she opened the heavy wood, they leapt inside the room deftly.  
  
"What's going on?" Hermione croaked, sounding stranger than usual, but Harrietta figured it was just her tired morning talk.  
  
"Hermione, look at us! In case you didn't notice, we have boobs!"  
  
Hermione's head snapped up faster than a speeding Avada Kedavra curse, and her eyes fixed upon the said portion of Rhonda's anatomy.   
  
"Woah," her voice chortled. "Sweeeeet!"  
  
It was then that Harry pinpointed the strange thing about Hermione's voice. It was rather low, and gravelly, and so un-feminine. He looked up and gasped, noting a faint line of hair that was sprouting along her jawline.   
  
"Hermione.. you're a boy!!!!" Harrietta shrieked, leaping away as if she had cooties.   
  
"Whaddya mean I'm a boy?" Herman roared, looking at Harrietta as if he were insane.  
  
"Really!" Rhonda giggled in glee. "She's not a boy! She's a man!" Rhonda clapped his hands together in merriment and Harrietta opted to speak again instead of succumbing to his almighty urge to wretch.   
  
"Whatever," he said, not managing to de-girlify his speech. "She has a wenis, and that's all that matters."  
  
"Technically, we all have wenisi," Herman corrected matter-of-factly. "Wenis is a noun meaning the skin covering one's elbow."  
  
"Man, even with a wenis she's still annoyingly knowledgeable," Rhonda commented. Herman sneered mannishly and Rhonda replied with a dignified sticking out of his tongue.  
  
"I hate to break you guys up when you look so attractive-"  
  
"My daddy says it's why I'll never get married," Rhonda cut in.  
  
"Yes, as I said, such an attractive moment, but we really must figure out this mess," Harrietta remarked.  
  
"Come on then, let's go down to the fourth year dorms to see how Ginny's holding up. I suspect she might have been affected as well," Herman reasoned.   
  
They managed to reach the dorm's without much problem. Only a drunken Nearly Headless Nick passed them, and, amid hiccups of ale, asked "Who's your friend there, Hermio-o-o-k...?" He then keeled over and probably would have passed out, had be been alive. The trio stepped over his incapacitated body and entered Ginny's dorm.  
  
Harrietta, however, seemed to have been thinking on the way down about their predicament. Before his two comrades could unveil Ginny and determine her gender, he began to have a little breakdown.  
  
  
  
"WAIT! What if she's still a girl? Is it only us? Did Voldemort target us three?! I hate Voldemort! He killed my parents and I will avenge him! I- I- I-" Unable to continue through his tears, Harrietta sank onto the nearest bed.   
  
"Gosh, what a drama queen," Rhonda said cattishly.   
  
Harrietta had happened to sit on Ginny's bed, and his hand had momentarily brushed against her bum; unfortunately this pervy action also caused the bedcovers to come undone and revealed Ginny's unicorn printed underwear. However, the underwear hosted a very distinct and conspicuous bulge that was always excluded from female anatomies.   
  
Many things happened at once.  
  
"Ew! She's got a wenis!" Harrietta yelled, leaping away from the bed.  
  
"Everyone's got a wenis!" Herman reminded him, rubbing her elbow on his arm.  
  
"Those are cute undies!" Rhonda giggled. "I am so borrowing those!"  
  
And Gimmy woke up, promptly screaming at her invaders. "What are you doing here?! You're a boy!" she yelled at Herman.  
  
"Oh no, not the explanation again!" Harrietta yelled, hitting his head in frustration. "This will be a long night," he said with exasperation.  
  
A few moments of silence passed.  
  
"Actually, it's daytime," Herman pointed out helpfully.  
  
"Yes, but 'This will be a long daytime,' isn't so formidable."  
  
"Oh."  
  
And they sat upon the bed, waiting patiently and explaining the story to Gimmy.  
  
***  
  
"You go first!" Harrietta urged, whispering.  
  
"No, you! You're always the leader!" Gimmy responded.  
  
"Well, I suddenly have less courage than usual." Harrietta retorted.  
  
Rhonda giggled and shot, "Maybe it's because you have no balls!"  
  
Herman was the only one acting sane, and after a few floor tappings and hands-on-hips moments, the rest caught her drift. "We'll all go in at once," Herman reasoned. "The doors to the Great Hall are big enough, after all."  
  
Everyone nodded, deeming that a fair method. With shaking hands, they all grasped the door, unknowing of what would next reach their eyes...  
  
Somehow, in a scuffle to get in, Harrietta was pushed forward in front of the others. All his weary eyes could see ere blurry masses, and eye upon eye staring at him. Fuzzily he made his way to the great hall and sat down next to someone with sandy-blonde hair.  
  
"I don't really understand what's going on.. do you, mate?" a voice said in his ear.  
  
Harietta jumped. He looked from left to right and found that the sandy-blonde lump, who he now saw was clearly a girl, was speaking to him.  
  
"I mean, last night what with that terrible stomachache, and then waking up and finding.. finding... certain things missing from me, well that was quite a shock, to say the least. Where'd you discover it? Mine was in the shower.. nasty shock that was, trying to wash something that wasn't there."  
  
Harrietta must have been staring oddly at the person, because they looked back with concern. "What? Have you still got your thing, but the other kind as well? I mean, those kind of people exist. Those.. herman.. hermanpadit.. Uhhh.. I can't remember how to say it."  
  
Herman had managed her way over to the table and sat. "Nah, I'm Herman, and that there is Harrietta," she said. "And who are you?"  
  
Harrietta, however, had just noticed a large black camera seated on the chair beside the blonde girl. "Colin?" he asked doubtfully.  
  
"The name's Colleen, now," he responded, nodding towards the head table. "Professors think we ought to adapt to the new.. situation.."  
  
And it was then that Harrietta saw the most peculiar sight- up at the Professors table, they were different as well- Dumbledore's white beard was absent, and his long nose shrunken into a state of femininity. McGonagall had lost her long hair and developed a beard and sideburns. Snape still had the hooked nose, but his greasy black hair was pinned into a bun. Trewlawney was as scrawny as ever, but her hair was male, and Professor Binns was as dumpy as ever, as well as Professor Sprout. Hagrid was the funniest; he looked like a baby without his gigantic beard, and he didn't know what to do with his hands, which had extremely large fingernails.  
  
Harrietta was about to start in his breakfast when Dumbledore stood. He opened his mouth to speak, but a voice interrupted him.  
  
"What's going on here, Dumbledore!" a snide, drawling tone echoed from the Slytherin table- a female Dracona Malfoy.  
  
"I was just about to address that, young Mister- or rather, Misses, Malfoy." He turned to face the rest of the Great hall. "First of all, please call me Dumbledora. It will make adjusting to this new body much easier. I ask that you call each other by whatever name each person feels accustomed to."  
  
A murmur ran through the room and another voice of indignation burst through. "Well, what if we don't want to adjust? I don't plan on being a girl for too much longer!" Terrence Higgs hissed, pursing his lips.   
  
"I ask you again, please calm down. Right now, your wonderful team of Professors, and I myself, are working to find the terrible person responsible for this atrocious crime. Now, we do have our suspects," and his twinkling eye turned to Harrietta, who knew though their agreement be tacit that they both suspected Voldemort. Dumbledora continued. "However, we cannot be certain. It is known, however, that all within Hogwarts were affected by this. If you have any ideas, please speak with your Head of House, or me, the Headmaster. Thank you." He sat promptly and began eating.  
  
After a few moments of silent shock, the students slowly began to recover. Talking burst out from every corner of the room, and slowly Harrietta and his companions leaned forward to discuss the new developments.   
  
"Did you see Dracona Malfoy?" Rhonda giggled. "He looks so funny!"  
  
"Like you don't?" Gimmy cracked, a bit of a daze in her voice. "He looked alright to me."  
  
Rhonda glared and Herman slapped Gimmy to get her out of the state of dreaminess she was in.  
  
Harrietta offered Rhonda a pumpkin protein bar, but the redhead refused, cooing, "I'm watching my figure!"   
  
"So am I!" Herman growled, looking Rhonda up and down appreciatively while with her tongue hanging out.   
  
They all looked at each other for a moment before chorusing "Ewwww!" It was quite disturbing to have Herman hitting on Rhonda for a change.. usually Rhonda yelled a bit for a flirting strategy. "Sorry," Herman weakly replied. "It's a manly urge."  
  
Rhonda still looked abashed. "Don't do it again!" he spoke girlishly. "Or I'll stick my wand up an uncomfortable crevice!"  
  
"Uh, right," Herman replied. "Well, I've just realized something."  
  
That caught everyone's ears. "You know how Dumbledora said everyone in Hogwarts was changed?"  
  
"Yeah, so?" Rhonda said, looking happy that Herman was stating the obvious. "I can paraphrase things to, ya know!"  
  
"That's not the point!" Herman yelled, looking as if Rhonda were dumber than your average amoeba. "The point is, that's not true."  
  
"Whaddaya mean?" Gimmy slurred, looking around. "Everyone alive in this hall is changed!"  
  
"Yes, yes!" Herman shouted triumphantly. "Everyone alive!"  
  
Harrietta was beginning to understand. He searched the hall quickly before his eyes landed on what he was looking for.   
  
The Bloody Baron was floating round the Slytherin table, as always, looking the same. Exactly the same as he always had. He was not a woman.  
  
"The ghosts aren't changed!" Harrietta yelped, making Herman nod her head enthusiastically.   
  
"So what does that mean?" Rhonda asked quizzically.  
  
"It means," Herman began slowly, "that only the living were affected. Only we did something that made this happen. Now think. What's something that only living people do, and that all we students did last night?"  
  
A few minutes of silence passed as they thought in solitude. Harrietta remembered to the night before, to the conversations and the events and everything that had happened in the time span from that moment. A thought dawned on him.  
  
...The food popped up from the kitchens below, sending a wave of hunger over the boys as they thrust a bit of everything down their throats, washing it down with goblets of pumpkin juice that, as Harry noted, tasted a bit atypical...  
  
...As Harry was about halfway up the boy's stairs pain hit him in two places: his scar, of course, and his stomach. Clutching both places in pain, he stumbled into the boy's dorm before collapsing on his bed....  
  
...In entered Ron, who also staggered to his bed clasping his midsection. Next to arrive were Seamus and Dean, lurching and grunting with every step. Neville was not far behind, bringing his own noises of discontentment...  
  
...'Aye, Harry, my stomach hurts like a Bludger hit it, so let's just go to sleep, alright?'...  
  
"I mean, last night what with that terrible stomachache..."  
  
"Drinking!" Harrietta said victoriously. "All living people drink, and ghosts don't because they can't!"  
  
"Of course!" Herman yelped. "Last night, we all drank that pumpkin juice.. whoever did this must have put something into our drinks. Most likely the whole vat of it, though, because putting it in each individual goblet would be a hassle. The question is, what potion? If we knew, we could discover the antidote!"  
  
Everyone looked perplexed back at Herman. "Have any of us got any clue?" she tried again.  
  
They all shook their heads, and she took their silence as it was meant. They knew how they had contracted this odd change, but they did not know why or what had really caused it, and those things were needed to get them out of the mess they were in. Herman vowed to research diligently on the subject, but their sinking hearts all knew that no research in the world could fully solve the dilemma on their hands. 


End file.
